


To the Moon

by coolbyrne, jenni3penny



Category: NCIS
Genre: (At least not what you think), F/M, Flower shop fic yet not, Slibbs yet not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:55:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25598413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbyrne/pseuds/coolbyrne, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenni3penny/pseuds/jenni3penny
Summary: He spent a good portion of his life buying flowers for a woman. So why did this feel like it was the first time? (Slibbs, despite Jack not actually being in the story!)
Relationships: Jethro Gibbs/Jacqueline "Jack" Sloane
Comments: 35
Kudos: 78





	To the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little fun with a story I might return to in the future. (I mean, where DID Jack plant one on him? And if the bet was $20, why did Gibbs pay $100? Just how good WAS the kiss?? *grin*) My thanks to jenni3penny for helping out, especially with the flower parts. :)

The bell chimed over the door, lifting her head from the week's paperwork. In the 23 years she had run the business, she had seen all manner of people walk into her flower shop, so she was well-versed in cataloguing the customer- parents, lovers, spouses, friends. She was just making her assessment of the tall glass of water that now took up half the shop with his shoulders when he spoke.

"Need to buy some flowers."

His face was impassive but there was a potential for play in his eyes that she couldn't help but draw out. Looking around, where every surface was covered with flowers, she pressed her tongue to her cheek and raised an eyebrow.

"Really?"

His brow matched hers, but there it was, just as she suspected- the bit of play that he hid as quickly as he let out.

"So let me guess," she went on. "In the doghouse?"

His lips twitched. "Not yet."

She had no doubt he said the last word on purpose. Nodding sagely, she ventured, "Anniversary, birthday or just because?"

"Just because."

"Oh, you're a keeper. What does she like?" When she caught the barest glimmer of uncertainty in the otherwise strong blues, she said, "Ah. First time buyer. For her. You want to show her you _are_ a keeper, or you would've just bought her roses like every other clueless man who walks through the door."

Her bluntness made him blink. "Am I in the right store?"

She waved away his sarcasm. "What's she like?" Before he could snark on the repetitiveness of the question, she held up a finger. "I didn't ask what she liked. I asked what _she's_ like."

The way he tried to cover his flounder was almost adorable. His eyes looked around as if the words were hidden in the flowers.

He finally said one word.

"Beautiful." Then, to cover the faint heat in his ears at the admission, he gruffly repeated, "She's beautiful," like he was describing paint dry. She let some silence develop, knowing there was more, and it was only a matter of giving him time. She wasn't disappointed. "Pain in my ass." The gruff was gone, replaced by a chuckle. He looked down at his feet. "Came into my life like a hurricane and now I can't get rid of her." He said it not like it was a problem but like it was a promise to himself.

When there was no more forthcoming, she playfully remarked, "Uh-oh. Did you use up your word quota for the week?" His glare was immediate and completely ineffective. "Oh, don't bother with the Marine stare."

"How'd you know I was a Marine?"

Her eyes went from the top of his head to his feet and back up again. "Yeah, okay." She was pleased to see a smirk form. "Let's try something else- what's her favourite outfit?" The smirk grew into a grin and she nipped his train of thought in the bud. "Hers, not yours, Romeo, this is a family business."

His face clouded after a moment, his thoughts spinning and eyes going grayer. It was evident by the slack in his jaw that he was trying to discern which item of her clothing may have been her favorite rather than his. A sudden light brightened his blues, head rising again as he worked up another half grin. 

"She likes it when I wear sweaters."

Oh, a genuine wiseass, then. She wasn't surprised that he'd turned the answer around on her. Though the classification helped, especially considering the drab polo and t-shirt combination he was wearing. Mystery Woman had a higher quality sense of taste than he did, at least when it came to material things. Or, rather, she just liked seeing handsome things on a handsome man. Couldn't quite fault her for _that_. 

"Mmmm," she nodded in answer, placating his humor. Then he surprised her by coming back around to the question.

"White shirt, grey skirt, white heels with a red sole."

" _Her_ favourite?"

He shrugged. "The point where 2 paths meet."

She couldn't help but laugh at the sly concession, and she could see how his confidence had no doubt put more than a few women under his spell. Yet it was the sliver of uncertainty that sold the entire package and she wondered if Mystery Woman knew she had that effect.

"So, stylish and classic." She gave him the once over again. "You must be a work in progress." His eyes went sleet grey and narrowed, but she was already on to the next question. "What sorta car does she drive?" 

His glance thinned even further and she nearly laughed again as he answered, his mouth forming the words like they tasted off to him, spoiled. "Mini Cooper." 

She laughed freely then, pushing away from the counter and drawing his attention to the display cooler. Her hand lifted towards the nearest door and the high style arrangement that was perched up on the top shelf. It was all cool angles and stark lines, no curve or bend. The flowers were high end, expensive, mostly tropicals - and not what she would have _actually_ chosen for him. The suggestion gave her a chance to watch his reaction, though, her eyes focused on his features as he considered the piece. He seemed to wince almost, shrugging one shoulder as he studied the flowers. She could see him hesitate, a frown starting to shadow the angles of his face. 

“No, you’re right,” she amiably agreed with his silence, giving him a patient smile. “Something more… _elegant_. Less flashy.” 

“Clean, but pretty,” he added very quietly, his attention caught by a tall and slim vase that was mostly filled with fully bloomed gladiolus. Tropical looking but more delicate, velvety curves and warm petals, each blossom stacked up the stem. He smiled as he looked them over, mostly unconscious of how attractive it made him to a stranger. 

“Gladiolus. There are some pretty peach ones in the back. I could wrap them up with a couple other things." She saw him eye the price of the vase while she spoke and waved it off. A quick head shake drew his attention back up to her. "Promise not to break the bank." She almost had him, but not quite. "Or you could just go with roses." 

The reminder of her earlier comment about roses and clueless men hit the mark, just as she thought it would. While there was no band on his finger, it was clear he had done this before, bought flowers for a woman for the reasons she mentioned- anniversary, birthday, doghouse. But it was becoming evident that the 'just because' reason was a first for him, and he was trying hard not to screw it up. She almost felt sorry, because she suspected Mystery Woman would accept a bouquet of dandelions if he showed up on her doorstep with them. 

Her sympathy blended with her sass, and when he didn't reply, she said, "Trust me. I've got twenty dollars that says when she sees these, she will plant one on you that will send you to the moon." She heard her own words. "'Plant'. Ha! Little florist pun."

And despite his scowl, that's when she knew he trusted her completely. Taking out his wallet, he handed her his credit card between 2 fingers. 

"Break the bank."

…..

In the end, she didn't, because she knew she didn't need to. Classy didn't always mean flashy and leaving a light and delicate touch on the flowers had always been her best bet. She'd known that just by his body language, by the way his voice had gone sweetened and softened, reverent. She hadn't added all that much, just some airy fillers and some lush greenery, enhancements and not distractions. She'd been fairly sure that being straight forward was something they likely shared and he'd left with an arm full of paper and ribbon wrapped gladiolus, pretending to be sceptical but not hiding it well. 

Which was why she wasn't surprised to see him the next day, not really, looking relaxed and pleasant as he came through the door, his half smile catching her attention a millisecond before the gray soft sweater did. 

"She's not wrong, you know?" She waved him up and down while he waited behind the young man at the counter. "Makes you look taller." 

"I dunno," the man between them mumbled, staring down the display cooler like it was calculus and he hadn't done any studying the night before the final. "I guess maybe just the roses?" 

"Maybe?" she shrugged back at him sympathetically before her attention was drawn to the way Mr. Tall and Handsome was silently pulling out his wallet. "Is that my money, _honey_?"

He tried to hide the grin but she caught its beginning, saw the way it pulled at his lips as he tugged out a crisp hundred dollar bill and slapped it on the counter.

"Just trust the lady," he told the helpless man. "Even if her GPS is off by a few thousand miles."

"She laid one on you, didn't she?!"

He pretended not to hear the question and gave the young customer an encouraging clap on the shoulder instead. "Word of advice, kid?"

"Yes, please!" He said the words like a drowning man reaching for a life preserver.

"Go with your gut."

The order was simple but it seemed to lift the cloud. The kid nodded. "Okay."

Gibbs waited the perfect length before adding, "And don't let this one here trick you into a bet."

"No, sir," he grinned.

"Tricked?? You'd better take my card for the doghouse days."

Her indignation followed him to the door where he turned, winked and held up the card he had somehow surreptitiously procured before the bells announced his departure.

…..

-end


End file.
